I drew the blankets over my head and tried to think of Christmas. But the grey face still followed me. It murmured, and I understood that it desired to confess something. I felt my soul receding into some pleasant and vicious region; and there again I found it waiting for me.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
395 | 2013-05-15 15:38:36 | 57.97 | 87% |
331 | 2013-04-25 18:18:57 | 66.40 | 96% |